If Love were a true story
by CoffeeHipster
Summary: So, you find a romance novel. The cover is decorated with flowers, hearts, the works. The characters are that of everyone other story, bad boy, and the girl with good morals. They meet, and turn each others world upside down. No, it’s all a lie. Love isn’t like that. Love is not a true story.


**Disclaimer: This is a story that covers some mature subjects such as suicide, alcoholism, homophobia etc. If you feel you might be offended and/or upset with such subjects, then this might not be for you. I will not be joking about any of these subjects, as I too feel like they can be personal and hurtful to some readers. This is my first story so I will appreciate some feedback. That being said, enjoy the story. I will be using different point of views, so I will state who's view it is before the main text.**

 **Ben**

I'm awoken by the sound of birds, chirping cheerfully from their perch near my window. Another day at school. Fantastic. Nothing old, nothing new. Shouting from downstairs. _Well, I guess they're up then, great_. I sigh, then I carefully remove the duvet from myself, stretching each limb individually, except my arm, which has been confined to a cast for about 3 weeks now. Another yell, this time followed by a clatter of glass. _There goes the china plates_ , I thought to myself. After begrudgingly leaving the warmth and safety of my bed, I trudge to the bathroom and take a look in the mirror. I simply stare back at the teenager looking at me, his brown hair flows gently over his brown eyes. His tan skin, complete with black glasses, looks exactly like a mocha latte. _Coffee. I want coffee, need coffee._ I swiftly brush my hair out of my eyes, let out another sigh, and trudge downstairs. The shouting has gotten louder now, in the kitchen, clearly. I check my phone. 8:30. I can make it if I run. I take a sharp inhale of breath, and walk through the kitchen door. My eyes dart over the scene laid before me. The kitchen island is scattered with cans, bottles and broken glass. The floor has shards of broken plate, and in the middle of it are my parents. I mutter a hello to them both. Dad simply glares at me, the same cold hatred in his eyes. He nods in my direction, whilst mum begins to pick up the bottles and cans. She turns to face me and smiles lightly. She's been crying again, and her face is red. She must notice my confused look because she turns away before I'm able to ask questions. Dad has left the room now, so I trudge over and kiss her lightly on the head. She flinches, forcing me to move back. She notices this, clearly, and pulls me into a tight hug. Although she's only 30, I'm taller than her, so I hug her back, as any son would. She wipes her eyes and turns back around. I decided to skip on coffee. I unlock the door, and as I walk out, I feel a small tug on my jumper sleeve. I look down, and see Katie. She's been woken up by the yelling, she's too young to go to school so she choses to stay in her room most of the time, silent. I pick her up and she nuzzles into my neck crevice. Her eyes are dotted with tears so I gently wipe them away. I have to put her down and leave, and I instantly feel the same guilt I always do. I turn around and shut the door, making my way down the street.

My backpack hangs loosely over my shoulder, and I quickly take out my phone and plug in my headphones. The birds fall silent, the cars just a distant hum. I turn around and look at my house. It's a light blue colour, almost like the sky. The garden is dotted with small stepping stones as a path, the small vegetable patch remains in the corner, with a small garden gnome near it. I can't help but smile. It looks normal, calm even. I continue my departure toward high school. I'm greeted by Lydia, who hands me a small package. "Happy birthday Benjamin, still up for later?" she steals my glasses and put them on herself, looking a little like an owl. I let out a laugh and snatch them back, then pull her into a hug. "You know it, but can we stop at a coffee shop before? I skipped mine this morning." I ask, but I already know the answer, she loves coffee. That's a lie, she loves the coffee shop, for one reason. She glares at me, her face turning a bright crimson red. She whacks me with her bag. "Shut it four eyes! I know what you're thinking!" I whistle innocently, placing my hands behind my back and walking to the school doors. She hits me again. I jab her in the ribs and she squeaks, resulting in another hit. "What~?! What am I thinking? Hmmm. Oh! I remember now, Sam will be there, is that right?" I tease. Lydia practically tackled me, which made my crap start to the day better. Simply fighting with my best friend. Ludicrous, some may say, it's normal for us though.

It has been for several years.

 **Emily**

"I'm not in the mood." I huff to Jayce, pulling my hair out of its ponytail. I hear a low moan escape from his lips, and turn to see a grumpy, 18 year old, Jayce. His dusty blonde hair brushing lightly over his face. He's the true definition of "surfer dude" if you ask me. "As always, when I am actually allowed to do anything with you?" he groans. _Flattery at it's finest_ , I mentally grumble. Jayce takes my arm and continues, as I prepare myself for the same old speech. "I just want to have a girlfriend, it feels like-""Like I'm shoving you away." I finish, combing my strawberry blonde hair. It's more strawberry than blonde."Uh, yes! When am I allowed to treat you like a princess? Like _my_ princess?" He comes up behind me and begins kissing my neck, gently rubbing my arm with his thumb. I push him away and inwardly shudder. I turn to face him, rolling my eyes. _"What do you not understand about no? I have my own life, something that isn't run and controlled by you!"_ I yelled at him. Well, I wanted to. I didn't say any of that. Instead of rolling my eyes, I just smiled lightly. "I'm just tired, I have school today anyway." I expect Jayce to smile back, laugh about his attitude, maybe even joke around again. But, he doesn't. He just stares at me and crosses his arms. I take this chance to dart under his arms, open the curtains near our bed, and grab my bag. "You're living in my apartment Emily. Remember?" I kept my back to him, shoving back the sting of those words.

I had met him earlier this year, and, like every other teenage girl alive, fallen for his charm, laugh, face, hair, body. Everything. I was going through a rough time with my mum, who decided that spending her money on gambling was better than raising her daughters, myself and Tia. Tia, then 13, had gone to stay at our Auntie Marie's house, and myself, wanting confidence, confided in Jayce, and he offered his place. This was shortly after we'd started dating. I snap out of my hopeless memories and sling my bag over my shoulder, giving Jayce a quick kiss on the cheek, before turning to leave. I open the door, and as I go to shut it, I hear a low grumble behind it, along with a voice, "I hope your attitude changes after your day at school. It better" I force a smile on my face, biting back my own fear and conscience, and began making my descent down the stairs.

After walking down what seems to be 100 stairs, I walk out of the apartment building and begin to run, I'm late again. My change jangles in my pocket as I turn the corner, the normally clear corner. It takes me a few seconds to realise why I was on the floor. _Shit_ , I think, _I've only gone and bumped into someone_. I rub my head, expecting a hand to be waiting to pull me up. Nothing. Just a grumpy old man glaring at me. He mutters something about kids these days looking at their cellular. I help myself up, only to see my bus making its way toward the bus stop, what seems to be a mile away. I take off at a run again, waving my hand like a lunatic, which, I'm guessing, makes the driver realise that, yes, I am supposed to be on the bus, and no, I'm not crazy. I pay the fee, and slunk onto a seat, with several eyes staring at me. I shrink even further into the seat, hiding my face with my book. I have 10 minutes until I arrive at the gates, meaning I have time. I take out my phone and type in the password, then I hesitate. I haven't spoken to her in a year. I wonder if she's thinking about me. I look at the contact for a solid 3 minutes, until I stuff it back in my bag and let out the same sigh I have been sighing for 3 years.

 **Well. This was the first "chapter" of my story. Like I said before, if you have any advice I would LOVE to hear it! I'm planning to do about 3-4 people per "chapter", however, this one is shorter due to myself being unsure. So, if you liked it, good! I have more characters ready to be introduced. Many more. Have a good day, and I hope you enjoyed!**


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